


A lifetime ago

by CopicsForNameless



Series: Unfamiliar stone [1]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Family Issues, Fighting, I wrote this 6 years ago, Let me know if you want me to tag anything, Long, Major character death - Freeform, Other, Post Battle of the Five Armies, Redemption, Sad, TALK ABOUT SLOW BURN, The Hobbit - Freeform, batttle of the five armies, heyyo, look at me finally posting this, maybe? - Freeform, post battle for erabor, strange characterization?, uh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:35:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 8,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26005801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CopicsForNameless/pseuds/CopicsForNameless
Summary: And so it was then, that he awoke. In an unfamiliar bed, to unfamiliar stone.Or maybe unfamiliar is too strong of a word.
Series: Unfamiliar stone [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1887523
Kudos: 2





	1. Unfamiliar stone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man this fix is old. I don’t feel like it’s held up but I did spend time writing it so i posted it.

And so it was then, that he awoke. In an unfamiliar bed, to unfamiliar stone. 

Or maybe unfamiliar is too strong of a word. 

Blinking away sleep and unsettling dreams he stared ahead, and let his eyes adjust to the dark. These weren’t unfamiliar surroundings, they were changed ones. These were the rooms that had belonged in his past and danced at the edge of his memory. The rooms he lay in belonged to his grandfather over a life time ago.

Pain shot through his chest and mirrored his own movement. He sat upright in the rich furs, and tried to keep his breathing steady.

He remembered the battlefield, the blood and loss. the screams of war. Then he remembered the hobbit who watched over his dying body, and bargained for his life.

Thorin steadied. His hands that had been clutching the bed loosened. His burglar had forbidden him to die. One more impossible feat to a long list of them.

A door opened. maybe he would be able to thank the burglar sooner than he expected. It was a pleasant notion. He –no Erebor herself- owed Bilbo much.

Instead Oin walked in, the battle had aged him. As war always did. He moved quick and with purpose. Made fast work throughly inspecting the king. 

The silence stretched eerily on. Had he been any other dwarf he may have shifted uncomfortably where he sat. 

“My injuries?” He questioned the healer, taking care not to let the uncertainty show in his voice. He was spared a glance, but no more. A dwarf of few words through and through. 

“There are none.” Oin stated briskly, then moved to collect his things and left the chambers. This was Strange of Oin, where was the quick jabs, and scoldings. Oin was a very focused dwarf but not a chase one 

His actions had been rather foolish. 

His actions that had-

Oh Mahal no. 

The actions that had cost his sisters-sons their very lives.

He stood helplessly, as he watched his eldest nephew’s life blood seep around a Orcish blade. Thorin had not known Kili’s fate, but he had known Kili. Had known his recklessness was only ever left at bay by his brother. Thorin knew that without Fili, in such a feat of rage, Kili would have fallen. Heroically of course, but one did not care of heroics when it came at the cost of such bright lives. 

“They died because of me.” He whispered, to the darkened room. He slept little, and what sleep he managed, was filled with what could have been. The smiling faces of his nephews. 

He was a selfish dwarf. His dreams should have been plagued by their lifeless faces, staring endlessly up towards the sky. Or They should have bellowed at him. Blamed him for their deaths. Instead they smiled freely, teased each other in the halls of Erabor. how alive they seemed. Thorin was a Spector in his own dreams, and when he dared to go closer. Then they would whisk away in some task.


	2. An unexpected guest

Thorin would have stayed there on the cool stone, Had the door not opened again. the sound of familiar footsteps had not drifted towards him. 

Oh Mahal no. No. No.

anyone else; his very father could rise from the grave to berate him. And he would have handled things with more grace. But not with her, he bowed at her feet. He was not sure how many apologies he spurted.

She stood there before him, silent and regal. With his face pressed into the stone, he did not look at her face to know the extent of her furry. It was cowardly, but he was a dwarf shammed. He had no right to look at her.

“What is it Thorin?” She asked, and crouched down beside him to lay a hand on his forehead. Checking for fever.

“Dis-“ he began shocked. But he had a duty to speak. “Dis, daughter of Thrain, son of Thror, Queen under the mountain, I am shamed for what I have done—“ 

“Have you finally come back to us brother?” Dis breathed. So silent in the overly large room. Thorin stilled. “Over dramatic as ever… But I’ll take anything that I can recognize of you. You… haven't been yourself.” Dis trailed off, searching the rooms for something she must of found, because her eyes met his again. “We had all believed you beyond hope.” he dared a glance then. Utterly lost to himself and hoped to find some answer in her features. He found no hatred in those features, or an endless sorrow in her eyes. He looked to deep pools of blue and found compassion, and concern. His breath caught in his throat again. 

“I am here Dis. But, have they.. Not told you? Your sons. Fili. Kili. They are—.”

“Oh those two are dead. That they are. If all it took was some measly gardening to bring you back to us- then they should have told me sooner. I would have pulled the dammed thing out myself.” She bristled in mock anger, then hoisted Thorin off the ground with a hand on his upper arm. “Wash up and join us for dinner in a hour. It has been two days since I have seen you Thorin. And twenty long years, since I have seen my brother.” She left, and he did as he was told.

***

His steps were heavy as he made way to the dinning areas. His throat dry and horse from the night spent restless. But he entered all the same. 

The company that had once followed him sat around it, each somber and resolved. Not a one glanced up at him as he sat at the head of the table, after a moment of standing idly by the entrance. Dis sat by his side, and the company surrounded him, save two empty seats.

It was a tense dinner. 

“I apologize uncle the… Meeting ran late.” A voice like joy personified, but wary and tired now. It still held mirth and mischief somewhere below all the exhaustion. The sounding of wood against stone, followed closely by the heavy thud of an exhausted dwarf. “I… Could not get Kili to come.” He whispered to his mother.

For several minutes all was silent, save forks on dinner plates. But that sound was drowned out by the blood rushing through Thorin’s ears. He stared at his plate; a sort of pork stared back at him, untouched. But they would continue this contest. A staring match was far safer then looking up when he knew doing so would chase away Fili’s Spector sitting just to his left. 

When he did look up he stared at the golden haired dwarf for what seemed like seconds and days at the same time. Thorin took in Fili’s sight. Older, tired, worn out, but alive and whole. his nephew in turn grew uncomfortable under his unwavering gaze.

“I did try Uncle but he would not-“

“You died.” A painful pause. “Because of my deeds” It came as barely a breath, but it was the loudest acknowledgement Thorin had ever blurted. 

“Pardon?” 

“On Ravenhill, you died in battle on Ravenhill.” He was going mad, no he was already mad. He had never been anything but crazed the minute he stepped into the mountain. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew the forks had seized and all eyes had raised to him, but he cared very little about that. he may very well have been staring at a gift from the maker himself.

“Uh- no. No I did not?” Fili stared at him, looking as lost as Thorin surely did. Fili’s gaze roaming over his uncle’s features, looking for some clue. “Are you speaking of the battle for Erebor? Because no, I did not die, you wouldn't let us leave.” Fili said, slow and distinct as if addressing a toddler or drunk. his confusion edged into anger, but never far enough to breach the emotion.

“I- what?” Thorin asked.

“Aye, you would hear none a word we said.” Dwalin said gravely, his tone heavy with a quiet anger. Thorin had not known him to ever withhold any emotion. He watched Thorin now, over his cup with an unwaveringly stare. 

Thorin tried to recall it, tried to pull something like it from memory. slowly, very slowly, as the last forks grew silent and the dwarves around him left, muddy memory came to the surface. 

It began with an outburst of anger, he saw unmistakable hurt flash in Dwalin’s eyes. It came murky, hazed and out of reach but slowly he could distinguish between dream and reality. Tried to pick out the pieces and arranged them until they made sense. 

In dream he had rallied against the dragon sickness, and lead his friends into war. 

In memory… 

Oh the rest of his memory was little more then dark clouds fogging his vision. Then of far to bright gold. His memory was day after countless day in that foggy golden haze. 

“Where is Kili?” 

Fili startled, either lost to his own thoughts, or he had not expected his uncle to acknowledge him. He slowly pushed himself up, and his uncle stayed sitting. “I'll take you to him.”

“When you’re finished there take him to the garden. Some air might do him good.”  
Across the table Dwalin set down his mug. Then left with the others

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When destiny comes a knocking you answer it don’t you?


	3. Past-tense

“We had stolen away into battle.” Fili admitted in a rush. They had walked silently at first. with the words it all came bursting out like a pipe. “By the time we reached Dain the war was nearly over. We left too late, so many were dead. 

Fili suffered a nasty blow to the head. It left him dazed and disorientated in battle. He had been sickly after the war but healed fully. Kili suffered worse for ware. Now he walked with a limp. But Just after the war he could walk not at all, and many worried it would not heal If Fili had known what had happened to his brother, he did not say. “He called to me, you know. I heard him, beyond all the screaming and the clashing. But I could not follow. If I had just fought it, stood up, run to  
Him, instead of laying there useless.” Fili stared ahead. Eyes haunted and elsewhere. He came back a moment later, and stoped.

“I heard him yell for me, and I thought we were both dead.” 

They had reached the royal quarters and stopped in front of what had once been Ferin’s rooms.

Thorin went to speak but Fili shook his head. his beads clicked from the gentle motion. He stepped away and against the wall beside the door. He regarded his uncle warily. Thorin asked to do this alone and Fili allowed it. It was a kindness he granted, but it was clear that Fili would guard the door. And Thorin did not doubt he would be dragged by his braids out of that room if Fili needed to. 

He knew above all else he had to change things.

“Fili, You have done well by Erebor.” He said instead, it wasn't everything he wanted to say, but Fili would understand the meaning. The simplistic worked best between them, at least until they had the time to sit down, and truly talk. “Thank you.” 

Fili said nothing, just watched him enter the chambers with large eyes. Thorin had thoughtlessly passed them by, only a hour before. 

Kili sat up in bed, paid little mind to the door when it opened. 

“Fili? You’re not bringing me dinner again are you? I said I'd get it later-“ his merry voice changed as he caught sight of the visitor. And when their eyes met all mirth washed from his nephew’s.

"Well uncle. To what do I owe the honour.” His youngest nephew spat. Thorin couldn’t keep the wince from his features at the harsh tone.

“I have come to ask about the battle for Erebor.” Thorin answered.

Silence. Thorin was beginning to grow far too wary of it. It seemed to be meeting him at every turn.

“And why should you want to know? Why ask me? -and why should I tell you.” Kili finally asked.

“Because no one else can tell me what happened as you can.” Kili watched him warily, and their eyes met. Slowly, very slowly some of the anger edged out of Kili’s.

“Me and Fee, we crawled over the barricade. With- with the robe. No one noticed- they were too busy trying to get you to join the battle. Me and Fee fought with cousin Dain we were holding our ground fine. Thats where Turiel found us. She told us about everything the people of Dale were suffering through and I- I dont care what you say! They were dying and innocent and I went to help them. I didn’t abandon Fili or Dain.” Kili finished, looking very much haunted. His words going from panicked to resolved. Thorin stared back at his youngest nephew. Kili’s features screamed defiance. 

“No you didn’t abandon them. You called for your brother, and Dain can hold his own. You went where you were needed and where you felt you would be best suited.” Kili visibly slumped. “Kili, what else can you tell me-“

"This time you’ve really out done yourself! You act as if you care.” Kili spat, doing nothing to conceal his angerl. “How can you stand there now and pretend to be my uncle after all these years?” Thorin’s back had straightened, not to be regal, no, no. but out of shock. For one selfish second he denied it. Put his want to be a better dwarf against his nephew’s words.

Perhaps it showed. As he had moved Kili had watched him, his expression went from guarded and wary to comprehending. “You- you don’t remember... You berated us for years and tauriell- you banished her. She saved my life and you repaid her with that. She could be dead and I wouldn't even know it!” Kili’s eyes bore into his own. Silent Frustration reddened his face. unwilling to be seen as weak had him balling his fists until they left impressions and his knuckles were stalk white.

“I will send ravens.” Thorin vowed, taking another unsteady step. It would take a lot but he would fix what had broken between he and his nephews. His actions had not been final, he still had a chance. “We will find her. And I will thank her.” 

“Don't make more promises you can't keep, uncle.”

Thorin was caught, in his nephews dragonfire stare. He didn't even hear fili come in. Fili took one look at his brother and lead his uncle out of the room. not unkindly, before he closed the doors he nodded to thorin. A silent gesture that he would handle things.

He had so many more wrongs he had to set right.

His entire company should know that he had wronged them. His sister and cousin Dain too. Even the entirety of Erebor would likely get an official announcement; things had to be righted. But he remembered so little, and he wasn’t even sure how much of what he did remember was in actuality memory compared to dream. 

He would speak to Balin first.


	4. A short reprieve

He felt disgust in his throat, he would go nowhere near his treasure. The treasuries. He spent enough time there already, for when he remembered nothing, he remembered the golden haze.

Balin’s rooms were empty and mostly unused. Thorin retraced the his steps until he reached the mailrooms. They hushed when he opened the door, a stillness falling over the room where once there had been chirping and squawking seeping out from under the door crack.

He hardly looked up from his writing, his braided bun bouncing as he wrote. It was a familiar sight Thorin never thought he'd see again; Balin hunched over his work lost to paper in these very rooms. 

“Well how long are you going to stand there? Come in Thorin.” He hadn't turned in the slightest, but just as ever Balin was able to pick out Thorin’s presence. “What can I do for you?” 

Thorin tried to form words around the developing lump in his throat; But his lips were dry and his mind blank, and all those things together made it near impossible. This was the only one in all of Erebor that Thorin could go to, and know that he would have all the knowledge needed. 

Thorin padded through the dusty room towards the nearest chair, brushed the spare papers from it and sat. Quietly.

Balin regarded him with a sideways glance; his hand still moving neatly with pen, never making so much as a messy letter. 

Thorin took a deep breath; and under Balin’s gaze straighten his back. 

But Thorin had found out since he had woken, that he had become a coward.

“Balin, I should need Erebor’s most skilled raven, for a task I must see done.” 

“And what task should that be?” Balin pressed, and set his pen down and faced the dwarf across from him. Balin’s full attention was all the more unnerving. 

“Personal matters.”

“yes of course, of course… But we have a problem then. The Ravens are diverse. where one is a master in speed they may be poor in mimicking. And by the same stone, one may an excellent tracker but a weak flyer. Most skilled, Thorin, depends entirely on what you need; so, what is it you need?” Balin said curtly, and returned his attention to the letters in front of him. He couldn't see Thorin swallow down the lump in his throat.

“I need to find someone who may not want to be found.” He stated his half truth, and watched as Balin nonchalantly leaned forward, plucked out a ripe ruby, and reached out a hand palm up towards the back room. Balin hummed, and pondered for a minute. 

“Ereol.” Balin called to the back room, the large bird hoped in from the shadows, and moved from surface to surface. It scarcely disturbed a thing as it moved to Balin’s desk. It tilted it's head sideways and inspected the ruby as if only to make a show of doing so, then looked up at the dwarf expectantly. “Your services are needed.” 

“obviously.” It huffed, then looked to Thorin. “By you then? I am Ereol, daughter of Oyllk. Speak clearly and I will complete this quickly. I moved up in rank not by small talk but by quick work and even quicker wit.” Thorin reached out an arm for the bird to perch on, then moved from the room with a quiet good day to Balin.

They walked some way, and thorin described his task to the curt raven.

“an elf?”

“Yes one named Tauriel. If you need information I can't help you, but my youngest nephew might be able to.”

“You dwarves have a strange effectuation with elves… But very well. I'll search for her.” The raven opened it's wide wings then took off down the halls..


	5. A shorter rest

Weeks passed. he wasn't avoiding the company, but they had made themselves busy, and he had not. He had spent the last twenty years as a figurehead for the crown, and did little else. Dis had been the only one excited to see his return, or the only one to believe it. Whichever reason she gave him work where no one else trusted him enough to, and he was not so secretly grateful. The tense encounters with those he'd call friends were weighing on him. 

When she asked of the battle for Erebor, he said nothing. 

“Come now Thorin you can't have expected me not to notice, and you know me too well to think I would not ask.” She was not unkind in her words, but there was exasperation in her voice. Understandably of course; some days it seemed as if she solely had been bestowed with the job of keeping this small group together. Even as they all tried to pull in separate directions. He could not answer his sister, and she expected his silence. Her look said it all.

“Fili has taken on all the duties of king, and while it is a heavy burden it doesn't explain why he cannot bring himself to look at you.” She paused and watched Thorin as if giving him the chance to speak, even if they both knew he would not. “And Kili won't even enter a room if he so much as thinks you will cross paths.” She didn’t stop to catch her breath, and Thorin poured his attention into his work. His pen creaked in his heavy grip. And the frown lines in his forehead creased. “Brother while some ire was always to be expected I never once fathomed that. And I try to say it’s the repercussion that comes war, but I must only look to dwalin’s face to know I'm lying to myself.”

“And what do you find when you look,” he asked, refusing to meet hers.

“That you are a stranger of the dwarf he knew,” she whispered coming to stand behind her brother. She almost didn't continue, but took in a steadying breath. “It was in mine as well, but I can see you’ve returned. Why can't they?”

“I come baring word to the king and sister king.” It was a shrill croak and it had Thorin instantly pushing himself towards it.

“Speak, speak, what news do you bring Ereol?” 

“Yes. If you’d give me a moment I'd do just that.” The bird sassed. “News of the elven lass who leaves a trail of burning stars behind her.” Ereol answered cocking her head about as she inspected the royal siblings. Dis with a calm respect, and Thorin with a judgemental air, though this was not apparent to either dwarf.

“Oh is that how my son is describing the elf now?” Through her voice Thorin could tell a smile graced her expression. But she crossed her arms and that very likely made her look threatening. Ereol did not find it so. 

“Yes, sister king. The young prince stated she was too warm for starlight alone. They must be set aflame from the fires deep within the mountain. The lass had been spotted nearing Ereborin boarders. It would seem luck was in my path, I approached her and she has been invited into the great halls by the king’s word. If she is to accept she will arrive by nightfall on the morrow.” Ereol attention Flicked between the two as she gave her message. 

“and did she accept?” Thorin asked perhaps impatiently. He felt the squeeze of his sister’s hand on his shoulder, and betted on her surprise that he invited the elf in. He willed himself to calm. It hardly worked.

“Do not take advantage of Ereol’s good work ethnics. Our guest will either arrive tomorrow, or she won't.” She said to him, all the while leaving her closest hand on his shoulder. With the other she gave the dismissing signal to Ereol. Turning her attention to the raven. “We thank you for your news and your pay will be with you shortly.” 

The raven bobbed it's head, and after a quick ruffling of her feathers, Ereol flew off in the direction of the mailroom. 

“Well, it would seem we have preparations to make.” Dis said with a smile. Bad things always followed that smile.


	6. A false hope

when Thorin dropped in On Kili’s training he didn’t blame himself for his barely concealed hopefulness. It had taken him nearly an hour to sus out Kili’s location. But it was still early morning. The good news was still fresh on his mind and must of showed. Kili spared him a guarded glance. His movements that had been somewhat strained stopped.

“Kili,” Thorin started.

“Thorin.” Kili finished, and returned back to his training. In his foolishness Thorin thought it would have all gone smoothly. That he’d tell Kili and everything would have gone back to some semblance of normal. 

“We received word, we’re to have a guest by tomorrow night,” Thorin didn’t add the possibly that nearly came tumbling out. He’d have no doubt. He would have the elf in his halls. He would thank her loath as he may be. Because kili had only lightened when talking of her, or to Fili, his mother and some of the company. Not that he had witnessed this first hand, Dis had tipped Him off. 

“Then I’ll be other-wisely occupied.” Kili said curtly. He lined up his arrow with the target again.

“Kili…” the dwarf prince unleashed shot after shot. Making it was hard to get a word in edgewise. 

“Thorin.” Only after he had exhausted his arrows did he respond.

“Tauriel is to be our guest.” There had been more. An apology perhaps. Begging maybe. But nothing else came forward in the time it took Kili to whip around to face his uncle. Wide eyed and hopeful. And so much like the lad he had been before all this. Before the years estranged, the war, the quest even. Just a boy who was all too clearly in love. Loath as he was it was an elf. Loath as he was to admit that didn’t matter anymore if only his nephew would look like that again.

“Here? Why? How. Uncle you banished her!” In his excitement he stepped forward, covered or didn’t register the wince when he stepped to hard.

“And now I’m inviting her. I would see matters healed between my family and I. And The company entire, for that matter.” Thorin admitted. Kili showed clear surprised. Perhaps he was surprised himself, at his honesty, his vulnerability. He liked to hide that part after all. But lately he couldn’t find it in himself to keep up with an appearance he donned what felt like a lifetime ago.

Kili stilled, and in a rare moment of contemplation asked “So you really have come back to yourself then? Or is it seen reason?” Kili paused and shifted his weight from foot to foot, his face scrunching slightly in thought. “I’m not sure yourself would have ever invited tauriel so openly. What with your-” Kili gestured with his hand, paused again, and shook his head. “I didn’t believe Amad.” He admitted. And mahal bless him he almost looked sheepish. 

Slowly, as if not to scare a dear during the hunt, Thorin reached out and set a hand on his shoulder. Kili didn’t flinch, didn’t meet the gesture with anger or disregard. Just gave a slow and tentative smile. “I can’t fault you there Kili. I never believe your Amad” that smile was wiped off and replaced with a surprised laugh. “Just don’t tell her I said so.”

“He might not. But I make no such promises.” Both dwarves turned in union, the moment having passed at the welcomed interruption. Kili grinned over at his brother and the blond dwarf walked up easily. He eyed his uncle only briefly. Content to see his brother in good spirits.

“What don’t we believe Amad about?” Fili asked casually. Kili clasped Thorins back once before dislodging and hooking his arm around his brothers shoulders to steer him away. Thorin looked between the two descending princes with pride. But they weren’t princelings anymore we’re they? They had grown since he had been away. 

“That We’re to have a guest brother! A fiery angel will grace these very halls on the morrow! Oh they will write songs about her eyes I tell you!” 

“Good! Perhaps then you will shut up about her!” They went on joking easily. Trading banter. Thorin sat rooted in spot truly happy that it had gone so well. Before they disappeared completely out of sight Fili turned to his uncle, and Thorin was sure he saw a smile.


	7. A false guest

The kingdom was a whirl of commotion as they prepared for the approaching night. Some would even argue that the fires of the kitchens burned brighter and hotter than that of the great forge that day.

It gave Thorin the excuse he needed to speak with Bombur. Upon Fili’s suggestion that Bombur may be the most approachable, and Dis’ insistence that he could not hide away from his company forever. The exchange went better than he could have expected. Even if it ended with Bombur joyfully ushering the king out of the kitchens so he could work. 

It was the first moment he had spared, since he received Ereol’s word the day before. He had even forgone sleep, to set up the spur of the moment welcoming. Maybe it was overcompensating, but it was also the first time he had seen his nephew truly grin since he had awoken. Kili had poked his head out of his rooms more often, even if we Fili stuck to his hip like glue. He had spoken to them more on this day then he had in the entirety before the news. 

It was worth the whispers of the scandalous “elf celebration” he heard at every turn.

Thorin was in good spirits. But thorin still had a task. He rubbed the bridge of his nose,

Dori still would not speak to him, he hadn't been able to catch the Darrow despite his efforts in the days leading to the event. He had seen him in passing, before Dori had turned on his heel and stormed away, on more then one occasion. Ori by extension hadn't spoken to the king, else he risk his brother’s ire. But he had exchanged greetings with him once or twice descending or ascending from the mail rooms

As far as Thorin knew, Nori could have left Erebor. He had seen neither hide or red hair. But gathered that he had stayed in Erebor from some gossip.

Bofur, was quick as ever to invite the king in for a chat. And while they had spoken politely, there was a guardedness to him that Thorin understood. He asked after bifur. Bifur had not stayed in Erebor. 

Gloin was much to busy, and Oin would not listen to a word Thorin had to say. Literally. He took out his ear trumpet whenever he saw him.

Thorin hoped tonight would make a difference. That he might say what needed to be said.

Daylight passed quicker than he could keep up with. He had busied himself with his planning, Dis and Her sons had been more interested in planning than he, but he helped where he could. When golden light began to fall put side the mountain it put a pit of panic in his stomach. When dinner began it sat heavily around him. There was no sign of the elf. 

“She did have the option to refuse.” Dis noted politely, taking a sip of her ale as she watched her youngest stab at his food. On this night the company did not sit all together, but instead gathered in smaller clusters throughout the banquet. Darrows from all walks had come to the celebration, hoping for some outrageous entertainment. Perhaps they hoped their kings temper would make an appearance as he had been told was so frequent before. Laughably, it was now they thought him mad. Not when he had been in the height of his gold sickness, but now that he invited the elf. He swallowed. He could now remember the goldsickness, had pieced together the scattered thoughts of those twenty long years. If it took him twice as many to fix his wrong doings he would say mahal blessed him with the time and opportunity to do so. He ignored his people’s whispers. He looked on at his family, Dis to his left, Fili to his right and Kili to his. 

Kili pushed a sausage around his plate and Fili looked between the three helplessly.

“She will come.” Thorin stated. Demanded. Whichever. And if it was to Kili, or his sisters question before he was not entirely sure. Kili smiles despite his clear gloom. 

“You cannot promise that.” A pause, and before Thorin could move to fill it with a declaration that he would find the elf himself, a real smile overtook Kili’s features. “But I thank you for promising it anyways.” Thorin’s hand tightened around his goblet, then loosened. He stood.

“I will check the gates.” He declared instead. Dis touched his hand, and Kili turned his head to watch his uncle walk around them.

“Again uncle?.”it was Fili who asked, but it looked as if anyone would have. Thorin hummed in response. If his marvel showed at being called uncle, truly. Then he did not mind it.

Darrows whispered as he passed, politics were sometimes the fiercest of battles. Through the corner of his eye he saw Balin speaking with the Ri brothers, he stopped his march through the large banquet for a moment, turning slightly. Balin noticed him, and smiled kindly, nodding his head in respect. They had spoken since that first night many times. And while Thorin had not told his most trusted advisor, and good friend everything; he gathered Balin understood. He was a educated dwarf after all. And there would be time yet to tell it all. The shame that followed the sickness, the miracle that he had awoken at all, his terrible deeds. His path to correct them. Someday he would tell it all.

He was sure he saw a flash of red hair, and something of stars, and when he looked closer hoping for an elf he cursed his nephews creative ventures. Then quickly uncursed it. He locked eyes with Nori in passing, and while there wasn’t much of the comradeship as from the white haired Dwarf, there was none of the hostility he had come to expect. Just quiet contemplation, in eyes that were too piercing. 

He pushed on. He saw strangers in thick pockets, then slightly familiar faces in dwindling gatherings, soon all he saw were empty halls and guards on his way to the gates. For a moment he contemplated climbing the stairs to the top of the gates, but when cold filled his veins at the few all too clear memories he had, he quickly retreated, and opted for leaving through them instead. Some day, he would ask on the where abouts of his burglar. The burglar. When he had earned the right to ask his forgiveness. When he had righted the wrongs he had done against his family, the company, his people. When he was less cowardly he admitted. 

“I am no fool, I don't expect them to listen yet, but Ill say it. And keep saying it until they listen.”

“If you're no fool, then why are you talking to yourself.” Thorin jumped, nearly. But he was still king under the mountain and he would not show that kind of foolheadedness. 

Dwalin regarded him from his post at the gate. Thorin stareed at him unblinking. After a moment Dwalin signalled to his partner to take his leave.

Somewhere deep down Thorin knew he had been avoiding his oldest friend. And from the look he got, while Dwalin idly sharpened his blade, Dwalin knew it too. Sometime during the sickness and after the war, Thorin Oakensheild had become cowardly.

“Any word on the elf’s whereabouts?” The king asked, moving forward as a dwarf somewhere opened the gates from a contraption. Dwalin put the blade away.

“Nay hide nor “brilliant fiery hair” your highness.” Dwalin gruffed. Mock politeness that Thorin didn’t turn around to see. He could hear it, feel it burning into the back of his head. They began descending the steps into the grove before Erabor. He had fought here. Charged out into battle and glory and died a martyr. 

“I hear you gained some sense in that thick head ‘o yers.” Dwalin continued, they fell into step easily. Thorin leading and the warrior following behind. Always Watching his back. It was here he listened to his brethren die through the thick gates. Listened as they fought for a chance at future they’d never get to see. Because he hadn’t really died a martyr had he? Even if perhaps he should. Wasn’t it a gentle hobbit that told him of that? That legacy is planting seeds in a garden you’ll never get to see? A lesson he had already learned from his father and his fathers father, but had been spoken back to Him so elegantly.

“Some.” Thorin agreed. And when Dwalin barked out a hollow laugh they fell back into that uneasy silence. They walked for some time. Walked some ways into Dale, and he was surprised to see it mostly empty. In worse ruins then he had seen it coming in. He searched his memory for wether the weather and time had worn on it, or if this was due to the battle of the five armies. 

With a start he realized he probably had not visited Dale since before they had first entered Erabor to slay that blasted dragon. He may have not left Erabor in over twenty years. He had hardly left the treasury. 

Finally the silence was broken “did you ever see to the garden like I said?” Dwalin asked, less of a question, more of a reminder that he hadn’t. That he had been told to nearly a month ago and never had. “You should  
Lad. Sooner you accept it the better.”

Thorin looked back at him Dwalin had begun to retreat back into Erabor. He gave a lazy wave over his shoulder 

“Down that path Thorin. You’ll know it when you see the weeds.”


	8. A false king

Thorin did as he was told. It would seem he did much of that these days. That in his absence he had become useless. His feet crunched the little stones along his path, he was the only sound in what was nearly night. It surrounded him and though he found he could still see quite well, he felt restricted. 

Before he had been left on his own he and Dwalin had just barely passed the thresholds of Dale. The path pointed out to him was outside it completely, and wound its way up towards raven hill. Thorin swallowed. For as much as it had been a fever dream he remembered it so well. The deaths of his nephews that all encompassing rage towards the white orc. His blind abandon leading up to his death, dying when bilbo forebade him too.

In the beginning he had thought that alone had spared him. Now he knew he created it just to keep him some semblance of sain. That was just fine by him. Save his nephews that fate. Save bilbo that sight. 

Thorin continued into that thick silence, until finally the stones were replaced by hardened dirt, and the path became less of a path and more of a worn route. 

He hadn’t been kidding. What Dwalin referee to as a garden was little more than a patch of weeds painstakingly carved into uncaring lands. More rock than dirt, more ruin than plant. Some mountain flowers sprouted despite the struggle here and there. Perhaps is was because of the struggle that they decided to grow. Stubborn to a fault. 

Something about the most beautiful flowers grow at the edge of a ravine. Before the quest Thorin was sure he has less flower and seedling metaphors in his arsenal.

He did not Need to walk long to reach the edge of the garden, and at its end it overlooked both Erabor’s gates and Dales ruins. It was a somber spot, when he came closer still he noticed a stump. Made perhaps for sitting and watching over the two cities, though why one might want to do that escaped him. Erabor’s beauty lay inside, in its people, in his makings. Dale’s lived in its past, nearly forgotten by the men who lived there once.

Throin thought to sit on the stump, but thought to leave instead. He settled for scanning the horizons looking for a spot of red. He grew bored of that quickly, and when he did he began counting the rings inside the dead tree.

“Y’know you can tell how old she was by counting these.” The burglar tutted, the king only hummed in response. Trying to pay more attention to his surroundings then the cut tree. Why the burglar was so interested escaped him. When the king could no longer ignore his counting aloud he snuck a glance. The hobbit did not notice. He wore a sad look, eyes scanning the rings,

“Though the way to do it is sad, don’t you think?” The company was setting up camp, Kili and Fili we’re starting a mock match and some were placing bets. They were fine. Bilbos finger was halfway through the stump, keeping his place. Lightly caressing the ring he had stopped on as he perched on the edge of the tree. “You’d have to chop her down first just it to know. Which is why a hobbtess never reveals her age, or so they say.”

“It only proves how long it lived burglar. And perhaps how useful it is to someone else living another day. Warmth, comfort, there are many things you can carve out of a tree. If in a fix.” Bilbo didn’t seem to pay attention to the king, despite how talkative that spur may have been. 

“Or how young. Thirty-four hardly out of maturity.”

“Then they must of needed her all the more.” Bilbo hummed at that.

And thorin realized he had been counting the rings much like bilbo had that day. Early in on the quest still, sometime before the giant’s and their battle, but after he found his resolve with the trolls. He’d have grown more resolved since then too. Going on to battling elves, men, Orcs, a dragon because it was asked of him. Thorin himself when it was not.

He noted, the cut was fresh, moss had not yet grown along the cut, perhaps two months time. The tree had been 24 or so, and if that notion made him sad he blamed that softness on a hobbit safely tucked away in his hobbit home.

Footsteps approached, then stilled, then finished their approach and knelt before him.


	9. The long awaited reunion

Thorin turned, regarding the red headed elf, she didn’t seem so tall, knelling. With a start he realized she did not knell before him, because why should she? She laid flowers down between them and stood, now properly tall.

“You are quite late.” He said, not unkindly.

“I apologize, I did not realize There was an event to be late for. Is it my execution I am missing?” She snipped. Good humour and elegance. Despite himself Thorin found he laughed at her quip.

“Perhaps, should Kili’s mother find your banter not as amusing.” The word mother felt strange on his tongue. But it was the human endearment. And he wouldn’t have used the elven word even if he had known it. He noted that she must have come up through Dale as he had tuned his back and traversed the path to the gardens. Otherwise he would have spotted her in the other-wisely barren lands. He noted he must have spent some time reminiscing, odd that he hadn’t before.

“Ah so I am amusing then, all this time I thought it be too high brow for the dwarven folk.”

“Hmm indeed.” The good mood died down, these gardens to somber to keep them. “Is that’s why you stayed away?” At that he heard rustling, and watched as she sat to the other side of the dead tree, for the life of him he could not touch it. Wouldn’t sit on it for it felt like a slight. 

“I strayed not as far as you might think.” She admitted. Watching the landscape with him. He wondered if she could see as well in the night, and realized she could see through that wretched forest. “I traveled some as well,”

“Should I think Kili snuck out to see you then?” He didn’t mean it as an accusation. It wasn’t one, a simple stating of facts. She didn’t answer. Instead changing the topic.

“Kili told me of…” a pause, a gesture. “He was brave,” she said gently, and Thorin thought she must have meant Kili, he didn’t disagree. But it didn’t sit right. 

“I’ve been told you saw him as… a friend, my condolences.” The words hung in the air. The flowers smelt sweet. Thorin stood, facing the she-elf

“What?” He hissed, not meaning the bite in the words, not meaning for the dread to build around him.

She watched him unafraid, sad eyes that Thorin didn’t want to look to. 

“I have come here many times to pay my respects.” Throin could barely hear it, but she kept talking, as if not fully aware. Though how could she have known? “Kili spoke fondly of him when we would visit. Said he owed at lest part his life to him.” She looked to the stump now, saddened. “Though last i was here the tree was still growing, but I suppose even strong trees may fall to rot in unfavourable lands.” 

How could he have forgotten? Cast it from his mind like he had tried-

“Throw him from the ramparts!”

“I will have no more dealings with wizards or shire rats!”

Thorin clenched his eyes shut. And lowered himself to the ground. He could tell somewhere that Tauriel was still speaking but heard none of it. 

“Leave she-elf.” She stopped dead in her tracks beginning to rise again, wariness etched in her movements “you are awaited at Erabor. Go now, leave me be.” 

When she got to her feet she regarded his back a moment longer, before giving a slow nod of her head. She left him then, alone to his sorrows.


	10. There and back again

He could not recall what possessed him to order the tree cut. Of course he knew the goldsickness had possessed him, but what had driven him to anger on that particular day, against that particular tree. It was so far out to the reaches of Erabor. Far form his grasp his sight his mind. In all truth he should have left it be it did him no harm. 

Had he stumbled there in a stupor one day? Had the weeds and rocks upset him? Had the one beautiful thing in that ruined valley caused him to fester and stew in his disscontempt like a hang nail? Or had he simply wished to forget the hobbit and all he had done for Erabor? FOr the company. For him.

He had been so quick to anger then, he could not know exactly what had caused it. Only grieve at it. Only wish he had been a better dwarf, who if not in life could respect the hobbit, than at least in death. 

Whatever the reason had been, he reasoned it shocked him into himself. Hours had gone by since the elf retreated into Erabor. No one had wandered off to find him and he preferred it. Would not be able to stand their questioning. The kind rested a hand on the cool wood, and gave the oak tree a gentle pat, before he braced himself on he’s knees and stood. He was tired. 

When he returned to celebration was still in full swing. Drinks were passed and food half eaten piled on the tables. A joyful toon was bouncing through the hall and he found he could not reach it. In his absence his company had banded together, all the darrows that had stayed in Erabor clustered around one table where Fili and Kili danced. The brothers supported each other so if one swung too low to the ground the other might catch him. As always, Showing off and being loud. Thorin wanted to smile at the lads. The company watched and laughed and betted on who would land on their ass first. Now accompanied by Dis who clapped along and belted out the lyrics, and tauriel, who bent over in laughter and hand on Bofur who kept joking along.

Kili’s leg was inquired, and he favoured the left.

Fili looked tired from a long days work, but despite his duties as king he made time to out due his brother

Dwalin had more scars and Dis had more worry.

They all looked older, they all looked alive and hurt and like they were healing. 

With a last glance Thorin disappeared back the way he came. 

He walked the halls of his memory. To the rooms that once belonged to his father’s father. He should rest, he felt so tired from the days events, from the planning, and the reconciling, to the planing of reconciling. The party, and the disappointment, and the hope, and the longing.

To the accepting it sooner rather than later. To learning who all had died at the battle of the five armies. Or the battle for Erabor, as it was called now.

Thorin laid down, in an unfamiliar bed, to unfamiliar stone 

“I picked it up in Beorn's garden.” The hobbit admitted, sheepishly.  
“You've carried it all this way?” His Hand was outstretched, and for a moment Thorin thought to touch it, as if it weren’t real, just an illusion of normalcy amongst everything.  
“I'm gonna pant it in my garden. In Bag End.” He had gained his resolve. Was no longer the hobbit he had met before their adventure. Thorin wondered idly if anything could steal his resolve. Wondered if he might borrow some. He hadn’t said what he had meant to.  
“It's a poor prize to take back to the Shire.”   
“One day, it'll grow. And every time I look at it, I'll remember.   
Remember everything that happened,   
the good, the bad...  
and how lucky I am that I made it home.”


	11. Prologue

When they found Thorin oakenshield the day after Dis could only weep. For she had been the one to find him, hoping to congratulate for a night well planned. 

When the kingdom learned of the news they held a ceremony, grand and somber. Those in the company closest to Thorin would call it a short reprieve from his gold-sickness, before ultimately, It had taken him. For he did not fall to the sickness, but clawed his way back to them..

many things stayed the same, but ultimately the small changes grew into larger ones. Fili continued his duties, but now with his brothers involvement, and if there was a scandal to be had of the elf’s presence the boys would hear nothing of it. Dis retired from her duties, confident those three would lead well. Balin never did retire, but Ori finished his studies and took over most his duties all the same. The other Sri brothers remained estranged, and if Dwalin retreated inward no one mentioned it. Bonds that had been damaged stayed that way, new ones formed. And life went on, tentative and hopeful.

After all. Legacy is sowing seeds in a garden that you never quite get to see, and endings look an awful lot like beginnings.


End file.
